


I Will Sleep No More But Arise

by amyfortuna



Series: Sleeping And Waking [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, Intercrural Sex, Interrogation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4274682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ñolofinwë goes to Formenos in an effort to repair things with his half-brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Sleep No More But Arise

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [Sleeping I Dreamed Love, Dreamed Love Of Thee](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4119745).
> 
> Fills my Season of Kink square for 'interrogation/kidnapping'.

"Why hast thou come here?" The question was said in a low, dark voice, a hand at Ñolofinwë's throat, not pressing down, but the threat of it present, forcing his head back, his back pressed up against Fëanáro's chest, Fëanáro's breath in his ear. 

Ñolofinwë swallowed, with difficulty, and willed himself to speak. "For thee, Fëanáro. I would speak with thee." 

Fëanáro's voice was near enough a growl. "Hast thou not said all thou wouldst say before my father, tale-bearer? Thou couldst not even wait to bring thy accusations to open council."

"Would that have mended matters between us, or made them even worse?" Ñolofinwë twisted a little in Fëanáro's arms, trying to move out of the grasp that held him firmly, trying to look Fëanáro in the face. 

"It was an ill deed, half-brother," Fëanáro said, but let the hand that was at Ñolofinwë's throat loosen a little, drawing a finger over his jaw, contemplatively. 

Ñolofinwë caught his breath at the feel of that touch. "I am sorry for it," he said. "There are other ways I might have taken but I acted hastily, in fear, and I do regret it." 

Fëanáro did not release him, but stilled, holding him. It was less of a ferocious grip and more of an embrace, now, but when he spoke, his voice was still grim. "And what of thy words later? To tell me thou lovest me in such a way - was that also an act of fear to be regretted?"

Ñolofinwë swallowed again, trying to catch his breath. "It was said in fear, but also in truth," he said carefully, wishing to be completely honest. "It was said in remembrance and hope." 

"In hope?" Fëanáro's voice was puzzled, and he let his hand fall from Ñolofinwë's throat entirely. 

"I dreamed once," Ñolofinwë said, turning his head to try to see Fëanáro's face, only able to catch sight of the fall of his hair. "I would dream no more, but have what I dreamed of, awake and aware."

"And what was thy dream?" Fëanáro's voice was careful, cool, guarded. Ñolofinwë turned his head as far as he could, still held firmly against Fëanáro's body, and pressed a kiss to Fëanáro's throat. 

"I think thou art aware," he said. "I dreamed of thee, of thy longings and love for me, that I lay in thy arms and in one night gained all I had wished for, but I was too afraid to turn and embrace thee." He sighed, and as Fëanáro's arm around him loosened involuntarily, twisted in Fëanáro's arms, and put his own arms around him, finally able to look into his eyes. "I fear no more. Thy sword at my throat has cured me of that. Henceforth I fear nothing, save only losing thee." 

Fëanáro took a breath and seemed about to speak, but Ñolofinwë leaned forward, and pressed his mouth to Fëanáro's, kissing him. Fëanáro gasped and his hand came up to clench in Ñolofinwë's hair, pulling hard with such sweet pain that Ñolofinwë could feel himself responding to it immediately. 

He drew away a little as Fëanáro's hand in his hair loosened, contemplating, glancing around the room. They were alone in Fëanáro's rooms in Formenos, where Ñolofinwë had been brought and left to Fëanáro's mercies. He had willingly surrendered to Fëanáro's followers at the gates, and they had treated him somewhat roughly while bringing him to Fëanáro, but Ñolofinwë did not mind that. 

There was a couch just a few steps away, and Ñolofinwë gently shoved Fëanáro backwards, taking him by surprise, surprised himself when Fëanáro yielded, and pushed him down onto it. Fëanáro's eyes widened. "Nolo, what -?" Ñolofinwë smiled disarmingly and settled down on top of Fëanáro, straddling his thighs. He could feel the heat of Fëanáro's length hardening against him through their clothes. 

Breathless, he bent to kiss Fëanáro once more, letting his lips linger against Fëanáro's, warm and inviting, letting the cadence of his speech change into something intimate and passionate, recalling the way Fëanáro had spoken to him that night. "Let me prove my devotion to thee, my own longings and desires. For thou art tempting too -" he smiled, pressing a kiss to Fëanáro's jaw, "- as well thou knowest, and I too, would no longer dream, no longer only look, but touch thee, but love thee." 

Fëanáro's hands came up to clutch Ñolofinwë's hair again, fingers sliding through it, and suddenly clenching once again, without warning. The look on Fëanáro's face, which had somewhat softened at Ñolofinwë's words, was still guarded and grim, and although he did not pull Ñolofinwë's hair as hard as he had before, the threat of it was still there. "What proof would take away the sting of thy words, the betrayal thou hast committed?" 

Ñolofinwë, heart hammering, twined his arms around Fëanáro's neck, and leaned in carefully, pressing a kiss or two to Fëanáro's throat, before he spoke again. "I would offer the mouth which hath wounded thee, for thy use."

"A sweet penance indeed," Fëanáro said. His hands slackened in Ñolofinwë's hair, and something in his face seemed to yield and soften at Ñolofinwë's look. "Yet I know thy feelings; thy heart was hurt at my words too but more at my deeds. Exiled I may be, but it is no news to me that thy pride was injured, that in fear thou wast when I held my sword to thee. In anger I acted, and for that I would offer recompense to thee, as thou desirest."

Ñolofinwë bent his head to Fëanáro's shoulder as Fëanáro's hands slid out of his hair and encircled his waist. He was breathless with desire, overwhelmed by the offer, unexpected as it was. "In that dream I spoke of before, thou wert pressed between my thighs." He looked up, meeting Fëanáro's eyes. "I brought thee joy that way, did I not?" Fëanáro nodded, and Ñolofinwë pressed his mouth to Fëanáro's, quickly, in gratefulness. "Then I would ask for the same, to thrust between thy thighs, to spill against thee, after I have brought thee to pleasure with my mouth." 

Fëanáro let out an inarticulate noise of agreement, shifting his hips against Ñolofinwë's, bringing their erections together, and leaned up, pressing his mouth to Ñolofinwë's. For a moment they rocked together, breathless, the rest of the world fading from awareness, conscious only of the feel of their bodies pressed together. 

In his turn, Ñolofinwë was taken by surprise when Fëanáro abruptly rose from the couch, still holding him. He gasped briefly and gripped Fëanáro's shoulders, astonished at the strength in his arms so casually displayed. Fëanáro held him easily despite the fact that they were of the same height and build, and walked with him across the room to an open door, which was not the door Ñolofinwë had been shoved roughly through earlier. 

Turning his head, Ñolofinwë glimpsed a wide bed, covered in warm furs suitable for the Northern chill. Fëanáro set him down upon it, carefully, and began tugging off both their clothes, without another word, but with a look of concentration and carefully banked desire on his face. Ñolofinwë caught his breath, and helped him, and when all their clothing was gone, held out his arms. 

Fëanáro slid into them and immediately rolled Ñolofinwë on top of him, leaning up and taking his mouth in a long hard kiss. Ñolofinwë responded, rubbing against Fëanáro's hip, almost ready to bring himself off then and there, forgetful of their negotiations. But Fëanáro laid a finger on his lips, once their mouths parted, pressing gently in and out of his mouth in an unmistakable rhythm. 

"Thy mouth, Nolo," he said, eyes dark with arousal. "Thy lips to wrap around me, thy tongue to lick at me, thy throat to swallow around me, thy body delivered over to me for my use until I am undone and spending my seed inside thee - thou hast promised it. If it is love thou bearest for me, if loyalty thou owest me, deliver now thy promises." 

Ñolofinwë caught his breath, and sucked at the finger pressing into his mouth, eyes heavy-lidded, looking carefully at Fëanáro to gauge his reaction. He gently scraped the finger with his teeth, and Fëanáro gasped faintly. 

Smiling, Ñolofinwë withdrew, sliding down Fëanáro's body, caressing him with hands and mouth as he descended. For a long moment, he bent to Fëanáro's right nipple and sucked at it, until the small pink nub was hard and Fëanáro was breathless above him. His hair, too, swept down across Fëanáro's body, tickling at Fëanáro's belly and thighs, sweeping over his erection and the sack below, until Ñolofinwë was kneeling between Fëanáro's legs, bracing himself with one hand against Fëanáro's hip, and bringing the other to the base of Fëanáro's cock. 

The taste of him was intoxicating, salty, fleshy, with a faint tang at his tongue as though he were taking fire itself into his mouth. He brought his mouth down as far as he could, letting the head of Fëanáro's cock brush the back of his throat, careful not to take him in so far as to gag. Fëanáro's hands pressed against his head, but did not push down, just rested there, as if to remind Ñolofinwë that he could. 

Ñolofinwë moaned, deliberately, feeling the vibrations of it running all through the cock in his mouth. Under him, Fëanáro's hips moved upward minutely, and Ñolofinwë began to suck, quickly moving from light and careful to fast and strong, bringing his mouth up and down Fëanáro's cock several times, licking at the slit at the top of his cock, and all around the head of him, finding those places that made Fëanáro cry out. 

Fëanáro, not content to relinquish control for very long, began to thrust upward into his mouth, and at the same time press downward on his head. Ñolofinwë allowed it, feeling Fëanáro's cock slip down his throat, past what was strictly comfortable. He began to gag and Fëanáro pulled back a little but then pressed inward again. Ñolofinwë warned him with a scrape of his teeth, and Fëanáro carefully backed off.

Ñolofinwë himself took the opportunity to take Fëanáro in as far as possible, pressing down slow and careful past the point he thought possible, until he could go no further. He swallowed around him then, and Fëanáro gave an inarticulate cry, thrashing a little against him. 

"Nolo!" he said then, breathless and desperate. "Nolo, I'm so close - ai, Nolo, thou wilt undo me!" Ñolofinwë, gasping, eyes beginning to smart with willing tears, swallowed again, unable to breathe, tongue lashing at any part of Fëanáro's cock he could reach, teeth just barely exposed and set against him. 

Fëanáro came with a shout into the back of Ñolofinwë's throat, and Ñolofinwë drank him down, licking at him to ensure all the seed Fëanáro spilled was cleaned up, letting Fëanáro's cock fall out of his mouth even as it softened against him. Overcome, he pressed his forehead to Fëanáro's hip, not trusting himself to speak, and swallowed several times, trying to clear his throat. 

When he looked up again at last, Fëanáro was gazing at him with a new tenderness in his eyes. For a long moment they only looked at each other. It was a sweet moment, making up in many ways for that moment when they had looked at each other with a blade between them. 

Fëanáro gave a contented sigh, and gestured with his hand. "Come here, Nolo," he said, and Ñolofinwë obliged, pulling himself up to lie alongside Fëanáro. Fëanáro turned away, but it was to allow Ñolofinwë to drape himself along his back. Fëanáro tugged one of Ñolofinwë's arms across his chest and snuggled back against him, pushing back against Ñolofinwë's cock in a most enticing way. 

"My thighs are open for thee, my Nolo," he said, and Ñolofinwë pressed his lips to the nape of Fëanáro's neck, not trusting himself to speak yet.

When he did at last, his voice was husky, breathless with need. He brought his hand to Fëanáro's mouth, pressing against his lips. "Lick at me, wet me," he said, and Fëanáro's tongue immediately stroked up and down the palm of his hand, liberally coating it with saliva. Ñolofinwë laid a kiss to Fëanáro's shoulder in thanks and brought his hand back, pressing between Fëanáro's thighs, wetting the gap between them, and then pushing his cock through. Fëanáro's skin was warm and his thighs were tight. Ñolofinwë's whole body surged against Fëanáro, taken almost forcibly by the need to thrust, to rut against him. "Why did not we not do this years ago?" he found himself saying. 

Fëanáro huffed a faint laugh, and turned his head enough so that Ñolofinwë could kiss him. Ñolofinwë pressed his mouth to Fëanáro's and gave in to his desires, mouth invading Fëanáro's, fucking Fëanáro's thighs until the bed rattled against the wall, until Fëanáro was hard again and touching himself in time with Ñolofinwë's thrusts, moaning into his mouth. 

Fëanáro's surrender to him, even for a moment, was overwhelmingly powerful, and Ñolofinwë wanted to prolong it, but could not bear slowing down or stopping. His eyes on Fëanáro's face, watching his open mouth, his closed eyes and his hand moving over his own cock, fast and hard, working it like he would polish a gem, Ñolofinwë felt like he was flying, like everything was possible. 

Release struck him like the lash from a whip; he cried out, trembling, shaking, spilling between Fëanáro's thighs, his seed landing warm against Fëanáro's working hand. At the feel of it, Fëanáro's eyes flew open and he cried out too, their eyes meeting, holding, as ecstasy overcame them. 

Limp and shattered, Ñolofinwë dropped back to the bed, curling against Fëanáro with a sigh of mingled contentment and longing. Fëanáro put an arm around him, and they lay in silence for some time, content not to speak. 

At last Ñolofinwë stirred. "Dost thou believe me now?" he said, hiding a smile against Fëanáro's shoulder. "Can we go on from here with love in our hearts, as we always should have?"

Fëanáro did not trouble to hide his smile. "I believe thee," he said, and stroked down the side of Ñolofinwë's face. "With love," he murmured, "in my heart."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] I Will Sleep No More But Arise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6701464) by [Chantress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chantress/pseuds/Chantress)




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